


The Dashing Adventures of the Former General Hux

by knightcaptain



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Crack, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Force Ghost Shenanigans, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Nobody Remembers Hux, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Temper Tantrums
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightcaptain/pseuds/knightcaptain
Summary: He's had enough. Now it's his time to shine.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Hux Defies Death and Gets Punched (Twice)

_Ando, home planet to the Aqualish_

Lon Dakkar, Quara mercenary and bounty hunter extraordinaire, liked the peace and quiet that Ando sometimes afforded him whenever he had the luxury of being home.

Then again, it wasn’t much of a luxury. ‘Home’ was a subjective term, too. It implied some sort of emotional connection, or that being here inspired in one feelings of safety, belonging, and comfort. It made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. It allowed you to entertain thoughts of a life softly lived, far from the reaches of smoking blasters and chaotic space battles for the sake of good money. 

Maybe this wasn’t ‘home’ after all. No, this place left him feeling quite cold, indeed, whether it was from the disdainful staring of his Aquala counterparts -

\- or the constant groaning and muttering of the redheaded human in the corner, unable to go a full minute without complaining and whining about the hole in his abdomen.

The Quara turned his head slowly and fixed a hard gaze on the man who carried the name Hux. 

Lon took in the pathetic sight, observing his charred and tattered First Order uniform and his sickly pale face that had twisted into an expression of what looked like permanent rage. It was an ugly face, Lon decided easily. And it was not a face that could belong to someone capable of defecting from the old Empire, clawing his way out of the Unknown Regions, and _surviving_.

 _Well,_ Lon thought to himself, _if he hadn’t come running by, he really might have died face down in swampwater._

The former general had appeared quite randomly, shrieking for help as he emerged from the deeper end of the swamp being pursued by TIE fighter pilots. His face had been whiter and paler than it was right now and he looked supremely hideous, the way his mouth hung open to unleash that shrill voice.

For some reason, Lon had observed, those TIE fighter pilots were poor shots. It was only their incompetence at killing a limping man that inspired Lon to action; he’d previously heard infamous things about stormtrooper efficiency, but witnessing it with his own eyes was another thing altogether. He decided there and then that they wouldn’t be of much use to whatever Empire or First Order they’d come from if they couldn’t even shoot a slow-moving target in the back.

He’d also decided the redhead looked decorated enough - despite his shabby appearance - to offer him some sort of compensation after all was said and done.

He hoped he was right. The man really didn’t look like much.

“Stop _staring_ ,” Hux snarled. 

Lon rose to his feet, towering over the human easily. His shadow fell across Hux’s entire form, and he thought he might have imagined the fool visibly trembling.

“That’s no way to talk to your benefactor, First Order.”

Hux flinched, covering a hand over his stomach. To his credit, he maintained eye contact with all the energy of a petulant child. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why, because you ended up on the losing side?” Lon’s laugh was low and sonorous. Hux’s face twisted even further, if that were possible. “Not even a shred of dignity left in you. They don’t make Imperials like they used to, huh?”

Hux started out of his seat and looked like he regretted it immediately. His wound must have flared in that moment, and all the bacta in the world probably couldn’t counter this idiot’s disregard for his own health; Hux yelped as he crumpled back down, still clutching at his stomach.

Lon laughed again, turning away from the human. 

“Touched a nerve, I see. What, you got a chip on your shoulder, or something? Born into the Empire? Let me guess,” he threw a look over his shoulder at a fuming Hux, “Your father was a military type, too. Packed your tiny head with grandiose ideas about world order and a better place. You probably grew up getting off on the sight of war and called it heroism. But then if you were the hero, then why did you run, First Order?”

For a long moment, there was silence. 

Blessed silence. 

Hux had stopped grumbling and moaning about his own plight, and Lon was free to busy himself at his workbench. He began to dismantle his blaster and ready it for another round of modifications.

*

_Exegol, six hours ago_

He crawled his way out in the chaos. 

Everyone had flown into a panic at the appearance of a bigger Resistance fleet, led by the scoundrel Lando Calrissian. They had come seemingly out of nowhere, with no prior warning. It was over, they kept saying repeatedly to one another as they stumbled through the hallways. 

It was _over_ , a voice reprimanded Hux as he hid in the maintenance closet until he was sure no one was outside.

He strained his ears against the door for several seconds longer before emerging, and limped his way down the corridor leading to the hangar. Every step sent a wave of pain shooting out of his bullet wound where Allegiant General Pryde had shot him. Hux squeezed his teeth together, tighter and tighter. 

_Almost there._

Stormtroopers he encountered in the lower levels only looked on in consternation as he pushed his way through. Of course, none of them knew that he was the spy, and that the Allegiant General had attempted to execute him in the command center. He stared into the glossy helmet of every single trooper that got in his way, offering to lead him to the medbay, and shoved them aside with whatever strength he had left.

His father Brendol had died pathetically in a bacta tank. Hux knew that wasting time in the medbay would mean he’d face the same fate - if not worse. 

Beyond the walls of the star destroyer, he could hear the sound of his life’s work crumbling into ruins. Obliterated by the Resistance, by rebel scum.

His legacy. His _effort_. All of it led to _nothing_.

No, there was no stopping now. He would not die here. He would not even _die_. He’d use Pryde’s poor shot to his advantage and find a way out.

It was over, he told himself with finality as he climbed shakily into the cockpit of a TIE fighter. All around him, the world he had always known began to fall apart. 

And he wasn’t going to stick around to watch it all end. Even _if_ it meant that Kylo Ren was likely somewhere out there, losing as well, and he wouldn't get to savour the sight of it.

*

_Ando, present day_

“At least I’m _alive_ ,” Hux said stiffly, after several minutes. “That’s more than I can say for _them_.”

“Yes, a coward’s victory.” His blaster would have more heft after this, but a stronger shot meant piercing thicker, tougher armour. Less time spent getting the job done - and cleanly, at that. “You’re a natural survivor, I’ll give you that. Even if you don’t look like it.”

“I don’t care what I look like!” Hux shrieked, sounding like he did, indeed, care about his appearance and what others thought of him.

“Uh huh.”

The human's rage was about to crescendo, it seemed; Hux was panting so hard that Lon could hear the wind of every breath in between his continued whining. If the mercenary hadn’t been trying to concentrate on his work, he might have found it remotely amusing.

“And you’ll stop mocking me and take me off-world! Do you even know who I am? I was once the feared General Hux of the First Order -”

“Never even heard of you,” Lon lied smoothly.

Hux wheezed, as though winded by this revelation. “YOU FOOL. I BUILT THE FIRST ORDER WITH MY BARE HANDS AND THE BONES OF THE OLD EMPIRE -”

“Oh, yeah, superb job by the way -”

“- _TO ACHIEVE A NEW WORLD ORDER AND RESTORE PEACE TO THE GALAXY_ ,” Hux began wagging a finger at the Quara when he glanced over his shoulder in response to the increasingly grating yelling, _“THAT A FILTHY LOWLIFE BACKWATER THUG LIKE YOU COULD NEVER COMPREHEND_ -”

Lon slammed the blaster in his grip onto the workbench and spun, bringing a clenched fist around. His knuckles connected neatly with the side of Hux’s face and sent the fragile human into agony; the man cried out and nearly fell out of his seat, clutching at his face. His powerful monologue shattered to pieces along with the rest of his composure.

For a moment his pale expression looked so pathetic (with teary eyes, no less!) that Lon thought he might have felt a touch of remorse at losing his temper.

But then Hux was steadying himself from the punch, eyes bright with defiance, and righted himself where he sat. It would have been an admirable sight if he didn't look so unkempt and - well - ugly. Lon watched as he worked his jaw before lifting his chin in a show of misplaced boldness, barely registering the blood flowing from his nose and over his lips, now pulled into a grimace. 

“I thought,” he said darkly, “you’d throw harder punches than that.”

There was that insolence again, fanning the flames of Lon’s dark anger back to life. That earned the great General Hux another punch to the face.

“You’ve clearly never pissed off an Aqualish before. I could do this all day,” Lon growled, gripping Hux by the collar. He pulled the man up to his feet without expending any real effort and leaned closer, watching Hux’s expression sour. “Or maybe you should take a swim outside and give me some _real_ peace.”

“Outside?” Hux’s eyes widened, his foolish anger temporarily forgotten.

“The swamp beast in those waters will happily tear the skin from your flesh, the flesh from your bones, and devour you slowly,” Lon drawled, taking his time as he kept Hux firmly in place. “You’ll be alive for a long time in the water even _after_ your eyeballs have been sucked out, and you’ll wish you fucking died on Exegol. Imagine coming all this way from the Unknown Regions escaping a worm’s death, only to die a worm’s death in someone else’s backyard.” 

Genuine fear crossed Hux’s features like a passing shadow, and Lon laughed as he finally released the smarmy human man. 

“Ah, _now_ you’re using that puny brain of yours. Preserve whatever dignity you have left, and _maybe_ I’ll take you off-world if I’m in a good mood.”

Now, back to the wonderful, wonderful workbench. If Hux made another scathing comment out of turn or breathed too noisily, Lon didn’t mind the idea of giving his blaster a test run indoors. He wasn't much of a first kill, but he was _there_ and it was convenient. The swamp beast would appreciate a light afternoon snack, too.

“Oh,” the mercenary said after a while, “My asking price is twenty thousand credits, by the way. _That’ll_ put me in a guaranteed good mood.”

Hux sputtered, “That’s - that is robbery!”

Glare. “That’s _insurance_ , so I don’t fry your skull with blaster bolts and feed you to rathtars halfway through the long ride to wherever it is you want to go.”

Hiss. “Fifteen thousand credits.”

“Seventeen.”

“Sixteen.”

“And we have a deal. There, that wasn't so hard.” Lon chuckled when he caught the dark look on Hux’s face. “Where _do_ you want to go anyway, First Order?”

Hux slowly wiped the blood off his face with the back of a gloved hand. He stared into the dark leather for a moment, before meeting Lon’s gaze. Was he actually fucking pouting?

“Corellia.”


	2. What's In a Name, Hux?

The Quara mercenary named Lon Dakkar lived in a terribly inconvenient part of the swamplands. 

It was on the outskirts of a tiny Quara settlement that was located along _more outskirts_ , nearly ten miles west of a major outpost dominated by Aquala. Hux was not surprised by this, knowing full well about the tension between the Aqualish races on Ando. 

Quara were regarded as gangsters - the scum of Aqualish society, as it were - since most, if not all, of them plied their trade in the shadows, hustling as smugglers, mercenaries-for-hire, and bounty hunters if they made the cut.

Hux turned to his reluctant rescuer and now hired pilot, and observed the brown tusks that engulfed nearly half the length of his face. On either side of this face were tufts of brown-green hair, the closest thing to a beard for an Aqualish, Hux supposed. Lon’s eyes were pitch black and as bulbous as the rest of his head, and they betrayed no emotion or thought.

He’d had very little dealings with Aquala in his military career, but the holovids Brendol had shown him in his formative years made up for that, and showed him much of the world he’d been eager to inherit. Compared to Quara, Aquala were more slender and looked just a touch more dignified, though the rest of their core features remained largely similar.

This racial distinction - or perhaps the right word here was ‘discrimination’ - thus made very little sense to Hux. 

They were hideous all the same.

Lon’s tusks moved, and Hux realised the mercenary was staring right back at him. “Didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to stare?”

“My mother is presently nowhere to be found,” Hux ground out, “so I’m sure she won’t take much issue with it.”

Snorrrrrt. “I don’t think it’s your mother’s approval you have to worry about here, First Order.” Their boots squelched horribly through the swamp, though at least here the waters were much more shallow and the fear of being devoured by a native creature had finally been left far behind. Hux noticed the Quara giving him the once-over. “You need to get out of this shitty uniform, by the way.”

Hux looked down at his outfit. He couldn’t imagine himself wearing anything else, and yet… “First Order isn’t welcome here, I suppose.”

Lon snorted again, and shook his head. “You’re not welcome anywhere.”

Hux grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, to which Lon had no response. Instead, the two trudged on in silence for the remainder of the journey until they came upon the tiny Quara settlement that looked a lot like a cross between an established military camp and a junkyard. 

Armoured Quara were marching left and right, going about their business, though Hux’s sudden arrival turned more than just a few heads, and made several others pause in what they were doing.

“A warm reception,” Hux said in a low voice.

“Shut up, Hudge,” Lon snapped. 

“For the hundredth bloody time, it’s _Hux._ ”

“That’s what I said.” Lon waved down a shorter Quara standing by a generator. “Teak, I need the spare armour and clothes from that last job.”

Teak’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you have a soldier boy as a pet?”

Hux bristled. “I AM NOT -”

Lon backhanded him across the face without even so much as a warning, and then turned back to his friend. “Sorry, he’s one of those ill-mannered ones. Anyway. It’s the in thing now, you know. Take back the power and all that. Humans can be so obnoxious, but they’re of some use, I like to think.”

Hux watched the unreadable look on Teak’s face through a fog of tears, pressing a palm gingerly to where he’d been struck. 

“Right. Are you finally putting together a crew, or is this really slavery?” Teak led them further into the junkyard-settlement, passing through rows and rows of stacked ship parts and decommissioned droids. 

Lon glanced at Hux briefly without really _looking_ at him. “Oh no, yeah, this is slavery, for sure.”

 _I’ll kill these walrus men,_ Hux thought darkly, and began to chant this mantra to himself until they arrived at Teak’s less-than-spectacular abode. It was just a tiny hut, cobbled together with ship plating, dried mud, and rock. 

Teak popped in and out quickly, and presented a neatly folded pile of clothes to Hux. He began gesturing absurdly with one hand. “You - change - now.”

Hux took the clothes with a scowl. “I speak Galactic Basic, you imbecile -”

That earned him another hard slap. He yelped, and Teak let out a laugh that seemed to gurgle at the back of his throat.

“Ooh,” he nudged Lon excitedly, “Let me do it next time.”

“Hmm.” Lon cocked his head. “Yeah, why not?” He returned his attention to a red-faced Hux, and pointed to the door that Teak had emerged from. “Dump that stupid costume and get changed.”

“Hey,” Teak said from somewhere behind him as he grumpily marched towards the door, “what’s this one’s name?”

“... Hubbs.”

Hux clenched his teeth. Hard.

*

The first thing he thought was that everything felt strangely tight, especially around his arms and thighs. Lon glanced at him, then exchanged an unreadable look with the shorter Quara beside him before they both burst into laughter.

Hux tapped his foot, feeling a fire engulf his face. “What’s so funny.”

“That's, ah,” Teak folded his hands in front of him. “For women, actually. Sorry, Hubbs.”

Lon threw his ugly, bulbous head back in laughter. Hux made a concerted effort to take a deep, calming breath, and schooled his face into neutrality - or tried to.

“Hey, look, at least you kind of make it work. You’re skinny as all hell,” Teak offered in what sounded like genuine kindness. 

“Thank. You.”

“Alright, alright,” Lon said, finally catching his breath, “No time to waste. We’re getting off-world, Teak. Thanks for the -” He looked at Hux again and laughed. “Bahahahaha.”

Hux immediately began walking away. “You know what, I think I’ll just get a head-start while you two kiss and bid each other farewell.”

He’d spotted the rows of ships parked just beyond the boundaries of the Quara settlement as they were walking just now, and figured that Lon’s would be there waiting. At his sides, his fists were clenching and unclenching. He just wasn’t going to stay there and let them laugh at him openly for another second.

No, Armitage Hux had priorities. He was angry, yes, and he was unfairly dressed in a woman’s pilot attire, but he knew better than to take on a village full of armed walrus men before he was truly ready.

*

“What’s in Corellia?” Lon asked, terribly conversational. “You hide your trust fund there?”

“I have connections,” Hux said flatly. “There, I will be able to retrieve your payment. That’s all you have to concern yourself with, Lon Dakkar.”

A languid wave of the hand. “Please, just call me Lon. I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other a lot already.”

Hux swore under his breath. Lon chuckled. “You’re easy to piss off.”

“Aren’t you Quara known for having short fuses?” Hux sneered, busying himself with the belt buckle in the co-pilot seat.

“Mmm.” The ship rumbled to life, all around them. Control panels began lighting up, and Lon began the routine calibrations. “But that’s genetic, you know. We’ve been like this for thousands of years. You, though? You’re just a spoiled little weasel.”

Even the exhilaration that came with liftoff - and the knowledge that he was finally getting somewhere and leaving Exegol behind for good - did not succeed at stemming the tide of the red fog descending upon him once more.

“And you’re a fucking walrus.”

“That I am,” Lon said, turning his head slowly. “At least I own what I am. You ought to stop pretending. I see right through that near-translucent human skin of yours. So thin. So fragile.”

"Shut up!"

"Quit it with the yelling," Lon drawled. "Does it haunt you at night knowing that you probably sounded like a schoolboy in the throes of puberty when you ordered your stormtroopers around?"

Hux huffed through the nose. There was that old pressure around his temples again. The First Order had a sanctioned therapist once to aid him with anger management, though he never quite took to the schedule they'd arranged for him. No, throwing punches at Phasma solved his problems rather nicely in the short-term. Alas, those were now bygone days. “You’ll remember that I’m paying you! So act like it!"

“Uh, _okay._ " Lon cleared his throat. "Maybe I forgot to mention: There’s an added fee for stripping your pilot of his personality for the duration of your flight.”

“Are you always this insufferable?!”

“I don’t think you should be asking _me_ that.” Lon glanced over at Hux, then at the control panel behind him. A moment passed, and then the mercenary sighed, soft and slow, like he'd just come to a conclusion about something. “Alright, look. _Hux._ I’m sorry. Do me a favour. Flip that switch behind you.”

Hux glanced over his shoulder at where Lon was pointing at. He briefly contemplated disobeying, but at what cost? Losing this sudden, newfound respect the Quara mercenary was finally giving him? _And_ finally getting his name right?

“Well,” he attempted to mask the delight in his voice, “since you asked so nicely. But I still don’t trust you.”

Hux unbuckled himself free of his seat and rises, relieved at the chance to regain _some_ form of control over this relationship.

“Understandably," the Quara said in a conciliatory tone, "But I know we can’t keep this up forever. And I’ve been a bit of an asshole.”

He shrugged lightly, playing it cool, and stepped around his seat to the back of the cockpit. “Perhaps, Lon Dakkar. Is it the big green one?”

“Yeah.” Lon’s voice turned a little queer. Was that a slight tremble? “That’s the one. You catch on quick, Hux.”

Hux lifted a hand. “Now, you don’t have to patronise me just because you want me to forgive you,” he said smoothly, “I happen to be _very_ magnanimous and -”

The rest of his sentence died when a great force flung Hux against the wall panel abruptly, face smooshed up against a series of knobs and buttons. Something in the air had changed - were they being attacked?! His heart began to race, his stomach lurched, and there was something familiar about it all -

The entire ship thrummed with surging violence. _Wait,_ he thought, horror washing over him, _WAIT -_

Lon was saying something over the loud hum of engines fiercely heating up, but whatever his intended message had been, it was lost in the mounting hysteria of the situation.

And Hux?

Hux was only vaguely aware that he was screaming as his entire body succumbed to the force of lightspeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god please don't take any of this seriously


End file.
